In less than three minutes, the film takes its viewers on a tour of Holl’s building, the camera skipping from space to space to capture the range of sensations invoked by the architecture, yet slowly panning to catch the play of light and sound that Holl considers essential to his craft. The serenity of the Korean hillside seems to filter into the building, creating quiet rooms in which to study a painting, contemplate a musician’s performance, or quietly listen to the hum of everyday life.
The film also captures how the essence of Holl’s building evolves as day turns into night. As the movie progresses, the pervasive white glow of daylight gives way to the yellow illumination of carefully placed light fixtures, transforming the experiences of the same spaces and materials that were so closely examined before. “[W]e understand that film can never replace a phenomenological architectural experience,” the filmmakers said. “Rather, it is simply a beautifully captivating supplement [and] this film enables us to meditate over the memory of the physical architecture and contemplate what it means to have been inside this space.”